


Let It Out

by kayywinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean Winchester And Reader, Dean Winchester Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Mild Angst, dean winchester x reader - Freeform, mention of depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23138773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayywinchester/pseuds/kayywinchester
Summary: Dean is usually the rock of the group, keeping everyone levelheaded and uplifted. But, then Dean's own mind plagues him, the reader returns the favor.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 40





	Let It Out

The map room was oddly quiet. Sam was at the end of the table, the soft static of his headphones the only sound that filled the room. Jack was napping in his room, and Cas was off doing his own thing. And Dean, yet again, was nowhere to be found.

Dean had been uncharacteristically reclusive over the last few days. Sure, there were some days where his emotions got the best of him. But, overall, he was usually involved in whatever you were doing.

However, today he hadn’t left his room. No morning coffee, no breakfast, not even a snarky remark towards Sam for being up and ready to take on the world before dawn.

You attempted to shake the worry from your mind, but there was no use. You needed to make sure that Dean was okay. Not only because you had been in love with him for the last three years, or that the brothers were literally the only reason why you were still alive. They were the ones who saved you from that enormous vampire nest and took you in permanently without question. So, you owed it to Dean to figure out what was eating him.

You gently closed your book in front of you and slowly stood from your chair, in hopes of not alerting Sam of your concern. He barely looked up. Phew.

You made your way down the hall towards Dean’s room, only two doors down from yours. Your stomach churned with nerves. You had no idea what you were walking into, whether he was going to be sleeping, crying, or sitting on his bed with his headphones roaring into his ears.

Your knuckles tapped the solid door, then you stepped back, waiting for a reply. Nothing. A small part of you even questioned whether or not he was still in there. Not that he was a master of leaving quietly. He was actually a lot like a bull in a china shop.

Just as you moved to knock again, the door slowly cracked open, revealing two gorgeous emeralds. His lips struggled to offer a hint of a smile before the door opened wider.

“Hey, Y/N,” Dean muttered. His voice was raspy, almost like he’d been crying. And judging by the redness around his eyes, he definitely had been.

“Hey, Deano. Just checking in. I felt like I haven’t seen you at all today.” You tried to keep your tone light and friendly. The last thing you wanted to do was make him more anxious.

He shrugged. “You know I’m not much of a morning person, sweetheart.” You leaned against the doorframe and nodded.

“I know. It’s just—It’s three in the afternoon. I’m accustomed to seeing you marching about the bunker by now.” You studied Dean’s face, which twisted a little at your words.

“Yeah, well, I just don’t feel like bring social today, okay? Sometimes I don’t want to be reminded that other people exist. I just want to be in silence.” Dean tried to close the door, but you smacked your hand against the chilled wood.

“Dean, what’s going on with you? You aren’t your usual self and I’m worried about you.” You pushed the door open again, and Dean didn’t fight you. He simply crossed his arms and listened. “Whatever’s bothering you isn’t going to go away if you shut yourself in here. Trust me.” You took a step forward, crossing the threshold from the hall and entering his room. Dean continued to step back until he leaned against his desk, arms still crossed.

Dean sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly though his nose. “I-I don’t really know where to start, sweetheart. There’s a lot going on up here.” He tapped the side of his head. You nodded, offering a smile. He was finally letting that guard down.

You turned toward his bed and took a seat, dangling your feet over the edge. You patted the spot beside you.

“C’mere, Dean.” He did as you said, sitting right beside you. “Why don’t you start by telling me what emotions you’re feeling right now.” Dean ran his hands over his jeans and huffed out a breath.

“I’m angry, and I feel guilty.” There was hesitation in his voice. “I just want to rip all of the drywall off these walls with my bare hands.” Your eyes widened a little, but you remained calm. You knew Dean could have a little bit of a temper, but he was usually good about keeping it at bay.

“What’s making you so angry, Dean? Is it a person?” You turned your hand over, resting it on your thigh, offering to take his. He stared at it for a minute, then slowly slipped his hand into yours. He squeezed you a little before speaking again.

“It’s me. It’s this life. There are so many people we can’t save, and I feel like they die because of us.” Dean grit his teeth as he squeezed your hand harder. “Because of me.” You could tell that he was struggling to contain his frustration.

You rubbed the back of his hand with your thumb. “Dean, it’s not our fault. We can’t help if people die before we get to them, or if we don’t catch whatever it is that’s killing them the first time. This job, this life, it’s all a learning experience. And we learn as we go. How many monsters have we known nothing about while working a job? How many times have we spent days reading the lore before we even know what we’re working with? It happens. It’s all part of the cruel game.” You sighed, trying to get a glimpse of his face. He turned away from you, but you could see a few droplets on his shirt. He was crying.

“Dean, please look at me,” you pleaded as you turned towards him. “You don’t have to be all rough and tumble around me. We’ve known each other for years.” You reached up with your free hand and gently pressed your index finger against his scruffy chin. His head turned with your guidance.

“Y/N,” he whispered as another tear fell. “I-I don’t really know. I know we can’t save them all. But what about the ones we could have saved, but didn’t?” You bit your lip. Where the hell was all of this coming from? He was usually the one who didn’t let anything bother him, and even helped you through the emotions of a rough case. Like you said, he didn’t need to be the tough guy now. But, it was still weird seeing him so vulnerable.

“Dean, you once told me that if you focus of what could have happened, it will eat you alive.” You leaned your face towards his a little, forcing him to look you in the eye. “I suggest you take your own advice.”

Dean nodded, then squeezed your hand again. “I’ll try.” He cleared his throat and quickly tried to wipe away his tears with his hand.

“Dean, it’s okay to cry.” He chuckled through the tears, making your heart pound. You loved to hear him laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled with a residual chuckle. “Super sexy, huh?” You furrowed your brow and chucked.

“What? Dean, if you haven’t noticed, you’re always sexy.” You stared up at him, your gaze following a stray tear as it streaked down his cheek, down his jawline, and off his square jaw. Sexy? He was fucking beautiful.

You didn’t wait for him to babble on. You reached up and smoothed your hand over his cheek, before turning his face towards you.

Your lips collided with his without another word. He stiffened in surprise, but quickly returned the gesture with as much eagerness as you. His arm wrapped around the back of your waist and pulled you onto his lap, helping you straddle him without breaking the kiss.

Dean’s hands gripped your as if his life depended on it, one firmly on your waist while the other cupped the back of your neck. His lips devoured yours, his teeth scraped against your lightly chapped skin. It was all too much and not enough.

But, the moment his tongue slipped between your lips, you instantly melted against him. You had been dreaming of kissing Dean Winchester since the moment you met him. And now that it was happening, you never wanted it to stop.

However, the two of you needed to catch your breath. Dean pulled away slowly, still holding you close. His reddened gaze caught yours as he offered you a contented smile.

“How’re you feeling?” you muttered from your swollen lips. Dean pressed his forehead against yours and huffed.

“A hell of a lot better than I did a few minutes ago,” he whispered. “A hell of a lot better.” He softly nestled his nose against yours.

“You think you’d feel even better if you kissed me again?” you teased. Dean grinned.

“Let’s find out.” He leaned in again, seizing your bottom lip between his teeth. Your lips moved in sync as you desperately attempted to pull each other closer. You held him, encasing him, hoping he felt safer now, happier, loved.


End file.
